The Royal, the Runaway, and the Street Rat
by Sailor Penelo
Summary: I was bored, so I decided to novelize FF12 (not a big job at all no...). It follows the main plot with a few creative liberties. It focuses on my three favourite characters (Penelo, Larsa, Fran) and while not in first person, will be told from their perspective. Hope you all enjoy it!
1. Prolouge

_The Royal, the Runaway, and the Street Rat_

Prologue

She should've been sad about it – and somewhere, deep down, she was. But the murder of the king she and her makeshift family had looked up to upset her less then she had first expected. Her mind was occupied by other things, another person who's life was about to end.

Penelo made the daily trek through the streets of Rabanastre to the small, built in a day hospital where her best friend was waiting. Rain pelted down hard, almost so hard it hurt her uncovered head. Her light blonde hair was plastered to her face, long and full of tangles. She usually took better care of it, but how it looked had lost its importance since the war began.

She wished she could block out the noise. The sounds of crying and screaming of men, women, and children filled the air, louder than the rain and the far off cries of soldiers, still fighting their pointless and bloody war.

Penelo broke out into a run.

She stopped outside the small hospital. It was a small, pitiful building – it wasn't even a proper building when she thought about it. It was a hurried job done by underpaid and weak workers, and the people there weren't even capable of treating a slight cold.

Of all the places he had to end up…

Penelo pushed through the creaky doors, bracing herself for tears.

The only room of the hospital was just as pathetic as the outside of it. There were only ten beds and ten times as many patients. The doctors there looked like they needed treatment themselves, and those who were actually sick or injured always looked like they were about to drop down dead at any minute. The patients who had missed out on a bed lay groaning, retching, and bleeding on the cold stone floor.

Penelo wished she could do something, but she could only muster up a single cure, maybe an esuna if she was lucky. She picked her way past the bodies to the corner of the hospital, the destination she travelled to every day.

Reks was one of the many people not to have a bed. Though Penelo hated to think about it, she knew that in the end Reks would spend his last days bleeding out in the corner. It made her shudder.

His younger brother, Vaan, sat beside him looking pale and drawn, doing his best to sooth his dying brother. The water leaking from the cracked roof had dampened them both, worsening the situation.

Penelo crouched beside them and tried her best to smile.

"How's he doing?" she asked, voice hoarse from crying the previous nights.

Vaan shrugged, a limp, lifeless action. "Ok I guess."

Reks's breathing was laboured and slow, his face pale from loss of blood. It had stained his clothes dark red and had seeped onto the stone. It filled the cracks in the pavement (they hadn't even bothered to put in a proper floor – the street was the floor of that abominable building), and had also stained Vaan's hands. He had always mumbled the same thing over and over, "he was there…"

The three orphans sat in silence for a while, the background noise of the hospital the only thing they could hear. After a while, Penelo spoke.

"Did you hear the news?"

"Hmm?"

Since Reks had been admitted, Vaan had spent all of his time in that corner with his brother, never leaving his side until his heart stopped beating. Penelo had tried to do the same, though the first night she had woken screaming. The second night was the same, so she stopped sleeping there.

"The King was assassinated."

"Oh."

Penelo hated how disconnected Vaan seemed – it was so unlike him. He hadn't even cried yet, he hadn't shown emotion since Reks came back wounded. It was disturbing.

"The Marquis announced something as well, about the Princess," she continued, trying to get a reaction out of Vaan.

It didn't work.

"He said she committed -"

"He's gone."

Penelo stopped. "What?"

Vaan stared into nothingness. "He stopped breathing."

The noise of the hospital became a low buzz, and the world went darker. Everything moved slowly, time didn't pass, the air felt thicker. She felt empty, she felt hollow, and she felt lost. She felt scared, she felt confused, and she felt like her heart had shattered into a million, tiny pieces.

All she could do was cry.

* * *

He'd been told not to care. He'd been told to be happy. He'd been told to celebrate, be merry, and act like it was a victory. But it wasn't a victory, not really. Not in his mind.

It wasn't a victory for the people of Dalmasca, or anywhere other than Archadia. But surely they could've won the war some other way? Or even better, there couldn't have been a war at all.

Whenever he brought up his opinions on the war, and how he thought peace was the best option, people laughed at him. They patted his head or ruffled his hair and told him that he was too young to understand these things. "You'll understand when you're older," was another popular one.

Though Larsa Soldidor was a child, he hated being treated like one. To other people, if you were ten years old you were practically a baby, but to him he seemed very mature, and old enough to engage in an adult conversation.

There were some people who would listen to him though.

Drace sat near him in the study, busying herself with her own book. It was one of the rare times that she had her Judges helmet off, showing off her worn yet strong features and the short grey hair that framed her face. Though she often denied it, Larsa had told her she was pretty on many occasions. He may have been stretching it with that description, but she definitely wasn't unpleasant to look at.

Larsa had tried to read his book. He had chosen his favourite to try and distract him from the issues that had been on his mind the whole day. But it hadn't worked, and he found himself staring out the window in political contemplation more often than looking at the pages.

"Drace?" he said, and the older Judge looked up at him.

"Yes?"

"Did you hear about the King?" Larsa had to get his feelings on the subject off of his chest.

Drace nodded and sighed. "Who hasn't?"

"I don't think it was right. There are other ways to stop a war," he said, putting his book down on the coffee table.

"Why don't you tell Captain Basch that?" she said with a dry laugh.

Of course, how could he have forgotten? The once faithful and trustworthy soldier of the Knights of Dalmasca was the one to have done the deed. It was a shock to most people, some more than others. People had expected it to be someone of lower class, with a vendetta against King Raminas's riches and status, but not a well-respected knight.

"Even if I did, I don't think he'd listen," he said, the childish sulkiness embarrassingly obvious.

"You're probably right. Anyway, Vayne and Gabranth a returning today. I'm sure they'd want to see you when they do." Drace changed the subject deciding she was too tired to talk about politics.

"Are they?" he asked, eyes lighting up.

Drace nodded. In a way it was sort of sad to see Larsa get excited about Vayne so much. It was fair enough to most, as Vayne was his brother, and it showed that the two of them shared a close bond. But to Drace it was worrying.

After all, Vayne was a murderer.

Larsa had no idea about his two eldest brothers, no one had spoken of them since their untimely deaths when Larsa was still in his crib. Not many people knew it, but Drace did, and she remembered it well. The first of the eldest Solidors were murdered in their bed, sending his valet into shock and hysteria. Drace had seen the deed been done, she saw Vayne sneaking into his room at night, knife in hand. She hadn't watched it, but she'd heard enough.

She didn't say anything for fear of inducing Vayne's wrath, and he would probably separate her from her charge. That was something she never wanted to happen. Though she didn't seem to show it, Drace cared for Larsa like she would her own son, and felt like she and Gabranth cared for him more than his real family ever would.

The second eldest died of a poisoned drink at the dinner table. Drace didn't see the poison go into any of his wine, but she'd put two and two together and had come to the conclusion that he had also dies at Vayne's hands.

Yet hear was Larsa, welcoming him home with open arms and a smile. If only he knew…

"Are they here now?" he asked, snapping her out of her dim and dull thoughts.

She shook her head, and the young prince's face fell. She did her best to look reassuring and said: "I'm sure they'll be here soon. Gabranth said he missed you in his letters."

A small smile spread onto his face. Though he never said it, she had figured out that of the two members of Larsa's cortege, Gabranth was the clear favourite. But he liked them both enough to consider them part of his family, and that was enough for Drace.

She'd never had a proper family before.

"I wonder what they think of the assassination," Larsa contemplated, mind drifting once more to the grizzly politics of Ivalice.

"I don't think they'd like to talk about it."

"Perhaps not."

As the two of them returned to their respective reading material, the slight pattering of rain against the large windows filled in the silence. Soon the gentle shower turned to a heavy torrent, drowning out the view and the sound of the outside world. Two things the Judge and the Prince shared was the enjoyment of rain. Not being out in it and getting soaked to the bone, but the sound of it was calming. It made it feel like the world had just melted away, leaving just them and the inside world.

This time the feeling was no different. Though it was one of the last times it would calm them so, and not knowing this at the time, they took no notice of it.

* * *

 _Just as well pirates left the sea_ , she thought as she downed the last of her ale.

The port town of Balfornheim often entertained storms, and today was no exception. Waves crashed against the shores, making people flee to the safety of their homes. People rushing into shelter not only to protect themselves, but to protect the ink on the latest newspaper.

Half of the Whitecap Tavern's patrons had their head stuck in the day's paper, eyes furiously scanning the pages that had brought the news of King Raminas's death, as well as the suicide of his daughter Ashelia.

She had never had time for royalty of any kind, no assassination would change that. The righteous king of Dalmasca had never cared for her, so she saw no reason to care for him. The only reason she'd even thought of him was how much money he had in his coffers, and even then she always became occupied with other business.

Just as she called over the barman for a second ale, the door of the tavern burst open.

"Shut that will ya! It's freezing!" yelled a rough voiced man studying the notice board.

The newcomer obeyed and shut the door. He hurried over to her with a large bag in hand, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Balthier, I never thought you'd come back. Two days is a long time for a sky pirate," she remarked with a mocking tone as Balthier dumped the bag on the bar and sat down.

"Nice to see you too Fran…" he groaned, then ordered an ale for himself.

Fran picked up the bag and dumped its contents all over the bar, which turned Balthier's exhausted expression into an alarmed one.

"Hey! That took a long time to get!" he complained.

Baltheir's posh Archadian accent didn't do much to make Fran take him seriously. However on the few heists and robberies they'd done together he had shown skill she hadn't seen in a long time. Not since her last partner…

She cleared her head of the thought and started to sift through the contents of the bag.

It wasn't a bad haul. Everything she'd asked him to get was there in full, no knock offs or worthless fakes. Not a single item had been missed out – and there was even a few extra gil amongst the shining stones and gems.

"Not bad for your first solo run," she remarked, looking up at the young fledgling sky pirate.

Balthier took a swig of his ale. "I told you I was good."

"I never denied it."

"I'm sure you did once."

Fran smirked into her glass. "Alright, maybe once."

The two of them, noticing the interested glances of other pirates, started to fill the bag up again. They tied it up and kept a close eye on it. Finishing their ale in silence, they both contemplated their possible futures as pirating partners.

Fran had already seen Balthier's show of skill, he had impressed her the first time they had met. They had ended up robbing the same Archadian mansion, and after one silly argument after the other they had finally agreed to help each other and split the prize. Of course, their bickering had caused them to get caught, but Balthier soon revealed to her that he had an escape vehicle.

 _The Strahl_ was a small ship, clearly of Archadian build. Fran hadn't seen any other ship with its design, but the way it looked and the way the controls were set up looked undeniably Archadian. She'd stolen enough of them to know the difference. It was _the Strahl_ that really made Fran consider taking Balthier on as her partner, having a getaway vehicle on hand had always been something she'd wanted but had never found time to get.

It was sheer good luck that she also liked the pilot.

Balthier had been surprised when he found a Viera looting the same mansion he was. He had always thought it was forbidden for Viera to leave their home – wherever that was. She had seemed cold and mean at first, and he hadn't exactly liked her that first night. But when she first boarded _the Strahl_ she had started to lighten up. He always had his suspicions that her growing appreciation of his company was cupboard love. If he wasn't the proud owner of an Archadian prototype she would've ditched him with more loot for her then they'd agreed on.

But Fran had let him stick around, surprising him and her other pirate acquaintances. When she'd first brought him to Balfornehim, he had been laughed at and she had been ridiculed. She didn't seem to care, though at that time Balthier had never dealt with those kinds of people before, so he had to steel his defences.

Without any sort of verbal agreement, the two of them became partners. Soon afterwards friendship had come into the mix. Then Fran started to trust him with bigger jobs on their missions, and now even solo work.

"I say we lie low for a while," Fran suggested, earning a confused look from Balthier.

"And why would we do that?"

"I think you got us enough gil to last a long time. We should take this time to plan something, improve our skills." _Build our relationship_ , she wanted to add, but didn't for fear of ruining what they had.

Balthier swirled what little ale he had in his glass. "Fair enough. But I don't think I could stand being inactive for too long."

"Of course not."

The two of them discussed their future long into the night, planning and plotting together. They stayed far past closing time, though the barman was on good terms with Fran and had let them stay as long as they locked up afterwards. Soon it was just them, alone. They had sorted out what they were to do, and they were now taking up the time with idle chatter.

Fran enjoyed it, just the two of them. Getting to know Balthier was more interesting then she thought, as she had always believed Humes had the dullest and shortest lives. But in his short twenty years of life, Balthier had done a lot.

So Fran spent the evening listening to his stories of Archadia, his friends, and his old life. But no matter how hard Fran tried, she couldn't get a single detail about his family out of him. But everyone had their secrets, and family wasn't one of Fran's favourite topics either. So she supposed they made a good pair.

Both outcasts, and both runaways.


	2. Chapter 1: Rabanastre

Chapter 1: Rabanastre

* * *

Rabanastre had changed a lot in those next two years – you almost couldn't recognise it. The posts which one held free flying Dalmascan flags now showed off red and black Archadian ones. Imperial soldiers dotted the streets, and they were more common than civilians these days. At that point, the public were awaiting the first appearance of their new consul, Vayne Soldior. They were looking forward for the chance to sum him up, and find out how to make him leave.

Penelo had to admit, she was curious to see the new consul. While she wasn't overjoyed at the concept of Rabanastre becoming the second Archadia, she wasn't ready to do something crazy like join the Resistance. The people working against the Imperials and the Archadians had made themselves known soon after the King's assassination. Anyone could be a part of it, you never knew.

Hurrying through the streets of Lowtown (Rabanastre's slums), Penelo was sure she'd be late to see the Consul's speech. The trouble was – as it usually was – tracking down Vaan. He seemed to get into endless trouble these days… Even doing a simple errand for Migelo ended in tears.

Arriving on the main streets, someone caught her eye.

Migelo was one of the few respected Bangaa in Rabanastre, even in all of Ivalice. He was the caretaker of Rabanastre's orphans, and had been like a father to Penelo and Vaan ever since they lost their families. The children he took care of did all they could in return, running errands, looking after his shop, and various other things. None of them minded, it was a way to say thank you – and it also kept them busy.

Migelo stood out amongst the people – he always did. He was holding a flask of what Penelo could only assume was alcohol. Probably for the fete that night, something Penelo and the other orphans had been working tirelessly to prepare for. Their efforts wouldn't be recognised by the Archadians, but Migelo would, and he had promised to split any pay he got and give it out to everyone who had helped. It was the only incentive they had, so the buffets and tables at the fete would be full to the brim.

"Migelo!" she called, pushing past the crowds to get to the blue Bangaa.

"Ah! Penelo," he said as she reached his side.

"Have you seen Vaan anywhere? We were supposed to see the speech together," she asked, scanning the crowd.

"Hmm… Yes, I think he went to do something for Tomaj…" Migelo trailed off, but his attention was soon diverted to the East Gate where it looked like a commotion was starting, "What's that?"

Penelo turned her gaze to the gate. "Do you think it's Vaan?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

The two of them hurried off in the direction of the gate, but the closer they got, the thicker the crowds.

"I don't see anything," Penelo said, standing on tip toe trying to get a look.

"It might be on the other side."

Migelo took her hand and pulled her through the crowd, his respect and recognition earning them an easy path. His assumption was right, nothing was happening on their side of the gate. It was through the gate where things were heating up. Migelo pulled her through the tiny gap in the gates and through to the other side.

Penelo was taken aback by what greeted her. A huge, grandly garbed Chocobo towered above her, guided by many imperials. The great bird gazed around at the crowds, who without a doubt were worse off than he was.

Migelo, however, didn't seem fazed. "Ho ho! A fine, fine chocobo you have there. Yes! Tchita Downs stock, if I'm not mistaken. Change the soil, change the chocobo. Am I right?"

As Migelo dealt with the imperials, Penelo noticed Vaan in the crowd. She hurried to his side.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a harsh whisper.

Vaan replied with a scowl. "I was running and errand, and now those idiot Imperials have cut us off for the stupid Consul…"

Penelo rolled her eyes. Maybe they could sneak out and catch the speech? But Vaan had that rebellious twinkle in his eye, and there was nothing stopping him when that appeared.

"Yes, yes. Different soil means different bouquet, too. Take a Dalmascan Barose wine, eh? It may lack the flavour and depth of some of your Archadian wines... but it has a certain strength of character. It's not bad, really, once you get used to it. Care for some, sirs?" Migelo continued to sweet talk the Imperials, offering his flask, "There's more than enough for all to cool their throats, of course."

One of the soldiers took the flask and looked it over. He turned to his partner and spoke to him in a hushed whisper. Vaan looked like he was getting impatient, and Penelo was sure that if the Imperials took any longer, he would burst.

"You, let these carts through then we close this gate as ordered," said the soldier, and his partner nodded begrudgingly. The gate slowly opened up, and floods of people hurried through to meet with loved runs or to run to the main street where the Consul would soon make his appearance.

The chocobo and his guards made their way through the throngs, still grand and composed. Migelo crossed to meet with Vaan and Penelo, a disapproving look in his eye.

"Don't give me a scare like that. You're lucky that ended where it did," he said, directing his comment towards Vaan.

Vaan looked like he was about to retaliate, but Penelo interrupted before things got messy. "Now's our chance to go through."

A bell rung through the streets, indicating the Consul was about to arrive.

"Ah, the ceremony'll be starting soon. I'd best be hurrying," Migelo told them, and started to make his way through the crowds.

"Okay, well –," Penelo started, but Vaan soon hurried from her side. "Vaan! Wait! What is it? Vaan?" she hurried after him.

Vaan pushed past the crowds to reach the main street with Penelo close behind him. The pair arrived where the ceremony was taking place. Large floats cruised through the streets, some that hadn't seen the light of day since the late Princess Ashelia's wedding to the late Prince Rassler of Nabradia.

There were more on that day then this day, and one of the three floats held the man everyone was waiting to see.

Vayne Solidor stood proud and tall, casting a glance over the people he would soon be ruling. He was dressed in the kind of clothes you could only get from the most famous Archadian tailors and seamstresses. He had an air about him that seemed untrustworthy, like he wasn't supposed to be there. But that feeling was dismissed for simple rejection of a new leader for Rabanastre.

Vaan and Penelo ran alongside the float, Penelo struggling to keep up with Vaan's long strides. But the float outran them, and they were soon left standing in the street. From what Penelo had seen, he was rather good looking, though she was sure she shouldn't be worrying about these things.

Penelo lead Vaan along to the crowded seats, and after a while they finally found a seat which would accommodate two people. They sat down just in time to hear the first words spoken. A judge had come up to the podium while they were finding their seats, and his voice echoed across the city.

"We will have order! I give you your new consul... His Imperial Highness Lord Vayne Solidor... Commandant of the Archadian Empire's Western Ar-" the judge wasn't allowed to finish. Vayne had already stepped towards the podium, shooing away the Judge with a dismissive hand.

"Your Excellency!" cried the Judge, seemingly appalled at the Consul's actions.

He backed away, and Vayne stood closer to the podium and cleared his throat. He gazed at the crowds, and Penelo almost thought he may be nervous. She didn't blame him, though she was surprised.

"People of Rabanastre!" he started, voice louder than the judge before him. "Is it with hatred you look upon your consul? With hatred, you look upon the Empire?"

The crowd reacted in a way Penelo had expected, negatively. "Spit on your Empire!" "Go back to Archadia!" were some of the audible shouts from the audience. Vayne didn't seem fazed, and he continued speaking as if the reaction was a positive one.

"There was little point in asking… But know this: I harbor no idle hopes of frustrating that hatred. Nor shall I ask your fealty. That is the due of your fallen king, and rightly so. King Raminas loved his people. Strove to bring you peace. His was a rule worthy of your devotion. Even now, he remains among you, protecting you. His ardour for the peace and weal of Dalmasca falters not. I would ask only that you do your king honour. Together, let us embrace the peace His Majesty would surely desire. Two years now divide us from war's bitter end. Yet still its shadow looms over all, stifling the infant peace. A pall only you may cast off! Achieve but this one thing... and your hatred of me, and of the Empire, will grieve me not!"

The crowd listened intently, some whispering to each other as Vayne spoke. Even the more agitated ones who were yelling at him just before seemed to contemplate what he was saying. Penelo was impressed, and even Vaan looked swayed.

A moment of silence descended over the street. Some soon resumed their original stance of hatred and anger, Vaan included. Others had been fully converted to supporters of Vayne, a few of them chattering in excited whispers to each other. Penelo felt entirely neutral, and she was sure she wasn't the only one. His speech was good, but she still missed the old Rabanastre. She still missed King Raminas.

Vayne continued. "I will stand fast. I will endure your hatred, suffer your slings and arrows. I will defend Dalmasca! Here I will pay my debt! I swear it now! Though King Raminas and Lady Ashe be gone, they stand ever at the side of their people. In honouring peace... you do honour to their memory, and to Dalmasca. What I ask, I ask plain. My hopes now rest with you."

With a bow, Vayne stepped back from the podium and out of sight, leaving nothing but a surprised Judge in his wake. Much to Penelo and Vaan's surprise, the crowd started to cheer. Penelo didn't think the reaction would be this good…

She watched intently and Vayne descended into the crowd to meet his people. He didn't just disappear into the palace, he had actually made the conscious choice to mingle with those below him. That was one of the few things King Raminas had over other rulers – he actually cared about his subjects. Maybe Vayne would be the same? Maybe Penelo would see him wandering East End someday, maybe even browsing Migelo's shop. She knew not to get her hopes up, but he seemed so perfect…

Vaan nudging her elbow startled her from her thoughts, and she turned her attention to him. "What is it?"

"Look," he said, pointing a gloved hand at the Consul.

When Penelo looked, she saw Migelo approaching Vayne with the same flask as earlier. His hands were shaking, a sure sign that he was nervous.

"What do you think he-"

"Shh!" Vaan cut her off, listening in as best he could to Migelo and Vayne's conversation.

"The patron of this evening's banquet, may it please Your Excellency," the Judge from before introduced Migelo. The Bangaa bowed, then knelt down before the Consul.

"I am Migelo, Your Highness. It is truly a profound honour to make the acquaintance... of our future emperor, Highness. The people of Rabanastre join me in welcoming-"

Surprising both Vaan and Penelo, Vayne laughed. Migelo's formal nature made him keep his head down, amusing Vayne further.

"That's enough of 'Highness.' Though indeed I am our emperor's son, I am no prince. Archadia's emperor is freely chosen by her people. I am but an elected official and nothing more," he said with a good natured tone and a smile.

Migelo hung his head, thinking he'd insulted the Consul. "I meant no disrespect…"

"Now that I think on it..." Vayne paused. "I would not have you address me as Lord Consul, for that matter. Henceforth, I am a citizen of Rabanastre. Why don't you call me Vayne?"

Migelo finally looked up at him, eyes wide. Penelo couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her hopes had risen higher, and there was plenty of potential for them to reach the skies.

"Eh, I could not. That would not be right." Migelo struggled to regain his composure.

"You are overly fond of formalities. I've just the remedy for that."

Vayne knelt down to reach Migelo's level and clapped his hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture that not even King Raminas would perform. "Tonight you will join me, and we shall drink until you call me by name."

The two men rose, and with a smile, Vayne disappeared into the crowds. Others were eager to meet with the Consul as Migelo had, and he seemed to welcome the people with open arms. Migelo, however, gave a half-hearted sigh and walked off, grumbling to himself as he did so.

"How can he bow to him like that?" Vaan complained, arms folded and pouting.

"Vaan, you just do not get it, do you?" Penelo began to scold him. "He's not doing it because he wants to. You know what would happen if he didn't?"

"I know. It's just-"

"So, what would you do different?" Penelo asked as she started to abandon her seat.

"I don't know…" Vaan sighed, standing up to join her. "Well… I'd do something."

* * *

Of all the people who could've escorted him, Judge Ghis was not Larsa's first choice. In fact, he was his last choice.

Actually, he hadn't even considered him at all.

It wasn't like Ghis even liked him either, so what was the point? They'd just argue all the time. It was just his luck that Drace and Gabranth were both too busy to escort him to Rabanastre, as he would've much rather travelled with them then the oldest, rudest, most arrogant Judge Archadia had ever seen. Larsa was thankful he kept his helmet on most of the time – the strong smell of his stiff, gelled hair was enough to make anyone retch.

So naturally Larsa tried to avoid him at all costs.

That didn't really work out, because as soon as the young lord left his sights without his knowledge, Ghis would send a group five imperials out to search for him, believing that he was up to no good. This was utter nonsense, as Larsa hadn't pulled a single prank since Ffamran left, and that was six years ago. Though he did have to wonder what Ffamran was up to these days…

Gazing out the window of the _Leviathan_ and down to the bright blue sea, Larsa wished they could just arrive in Bhujerba already. He had never liked being in the confines of an airship, and he hated the unnatural smells wafting through from the engine room. He had never coped well with flying, so he had been confined to his cabin to sit still until they landed. And though Bhujerba was Ivalice's only airborn city, at least it didn't move. He was happy they could stop off there, as three days of nothing but flying didn't sound appealing to him at all…

Larsa just couldn't wait to get off.

* * *

"So this is the place then?"

Fran looked over at Balthier. He was studying the ginormous building before them, the Royal Palace of Rabanastre. The Palace towered over the other buildings, dressed up like a giant stone model thanks to the arrival of the new Consul. The grounds were crawling with Imperials, servants, and civilians who had come to supply the fete with hot food and baked goods. It looked more difficult to break into then Fran had first thought, but they'd manage.

"They'll put more focus on guardin the fete tonight, so we'll be able to walk in and pick out what we want and make it out just as fast," Fran reassured him as she strung her bow.

The two of them were amongst the now dispersing crowds at the Consuls speech, taking a moment to study the place where their next burglary would take place. The two of them had been over the plan they'd made at least ten times on their way to Rabanastre, and they were sure the plan would be fool proof.

They only had one main goal – obtaining the long sought after Goddess's Magicite.

One of the most valuable items in Ivalice, getting their hands on it would not only earn them respect and notoriety from other Sky Pirates, but it would get them a supply of gil to last a life time. Not that they really needed more (they were still living off Balthier's find from two years ago), but more was always nice.

"You really think it will be that easy?" asked Balthier.

Fran nodded with a smirk. "Are you scared?"

Balthier rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the Palace.

"You think a leading man gets scared?"

"Enough with that 'leading man" rubbish." It was Fran's turn to roll her eyes.

Balthier leaned back in his seat with a look like a proud cat. He looked far too pleased with himself for annoying Fran. Sometimes he really did act like an annoying little brother…

As Fran put down her bow, the sound of whispers caught her attention. She looked around to see a bunch of children staring and pointing – some were even laughing. When realized they'd been caught, they disappeared into the crowds once more. Fran sighed.

It was impossible to be conspicuous when you were a Viera. Viera never left the Eryut Village, so they were an oddity all around Ivalice – and the large, rabbit like ears that came with being a member of the race did nothing to help. No matter how hard she tried to feel normal in the Hume dominated world, it wasn't possible. She tried not to let it get her down, but sometimes it was harder in a huge place like this where people were bound to stare no matter how polite they were. In smaller villages it didn't seem to matter, anyone could go to those places and no one would blink an eye. But with big cities like Rabanastre or Archadia, it was a different story.

Baltheir had noticed the gaggle of children as well, and in turn had noticed Fran's shift in mood.

"Don't worry about them," he told her, catching Fran's attention.

"I try."

Balthier gave her a smile, and stood up. He stretched, clearly enjoying the sun, and then offered his hand to Fran.

"If tonight goes well, you'll never have to deal with the likes of them again. They'll be too awestruck to laugh."

Fran smirked and took his hand, raising herself to her full height. She was at least a head taller than her partner, an attribute she enjoyed having. But as the two of them made their way through the streets, Fran couldn't help but think back to what Balthier had said earlier.

" _They'll be too awestruck to laugh."_

Fran wasn't sure she liked the idea of people being 'awestruck' around her, it wouldn't feel right. She enjoyed flying around Ivalice in the _Strahl_ with Balthier by her side and no plan for the future. But if they pulled off tonight's theft…

Fran couldn't help but feeling regret at suggesting taking the Goddess's Magicite, but she couldn't go back now.

She was stuck.


	3. Chapter 2: Fete Night

**THE ROYAL, THE RUNAWAY, AND THE STREET RAT – CHAPTER 2**

The sky was ablaze with fireworks, the palace alive with chatter – perfect distractions. Fran and Balthier waited in the shadows outside the palace, hoverbike at the ready. They were waiting for Balthier's distraction to work so that their entrance in the palace would go unnoticed – but whatever it was, it was taking it's sweet, sweet time.

"Are you sure you set it correctly?" Fran asked, a little tetchy.

"I'm sure," Balthier replied, straining for the tell-tale signs that his distraction had worked.

Fran bit her lip. She was bracing herself for the time to be right, ready to turn the bike on at any second. Time passed, and still no sign of the distraction.

"I think we needed a plan B," Fran muttered, glowering at her partner.

"Just a little bit longer…" Balthier trailed off, and then a smile broke out on his face. He pointed at the bridge, and to Fran's surprise she saw a moogle sprinting down the stone path.

"What did you…" Fran began, but was too baffled to continue.

"You can always trust a Moogle with your dirty work," Balthier said with a chuckle. When he saw Fran's disbelief, he smirked. "Don't worry, Nono is paying him well. Shall we?"

As the guards scrambled to catch the rogue Moogle, Fran started up the hoverbike, and soon they were airborne. She slammed her foot down on the accelerator, and before long the two of them were soaring towards the bridge. Balthier kept an eye on when and where to land, so it was when he tapped her on the shoulder she knew that they were in the right place.

The bike slowed to a halt, and the two of them hopped off. Fortunately, the guards were still occupied, so the sky pirates could make their way into the palace unnoticed. Before they entered, Balthier flicked a small switch on the bike, and the vehicle vanished into thin air, invisible.

"You can never be too careful," he said, and Fran smirked.

* * *

The palace was quiet, save for the muffled sounds of gaiety downstairs. Any Imperial guards that would normally be patrolling the top floor must have been assigned to the lower levels. This worked to the pirate's advantage – the less guards the better. Not that they couldn't dispatch any guard easily, but it made the job much easier without them.

"Let me see the map." Balthier held out his hand, but Fran was already looking at it herself. They had the map drawn up by one of their allies in Balfornheim who had once served King Raminas. They'd paid a hefty sum, naturally, but it was well worth it. Without it, they'd have no choice but to play it by ear. From previous experience, that never worked well.

"The Goddess Magicite is hidden in the royal treasury. There should be a hidden door on this floor leading to it." Fran looked up from the map and scanned the landing, searching for something that could hide a door.

"Any experience with secret doors?" asked Balthier.

"You don't want to know," Fran muttered, stuffing the map back in her knapsack.

Balthier chuckled and started feeling around the walls. Fran joined in his search, going beyond the walls and looking in bookshelves, stair railings, anything that could possibly hold a secret entrance.

Their search had been fruitless, and Fran was beginning to wonder if their informant had given them false information. "Perhaps clues lie in the floors below?" Fran suggested.

Balthier was feeling around one of the windows when he turned to Fran. "Perhaps. We may-"

Before Balthier could finish, the sound of a crash and a yelling Imperial caught their attention.

"By the Emperor, what was that?"

Balthier and Fran exchanged glances – it dawned on them that parking an invisible hover bike in the middle of the bridge hadn't been such a good idea after all. Fran's ears twitched when the large doors leading out to the bridge started to open.

"You keep searching, I'll hold them off," Fran ordered, drawing her bow. Balthier nodded and went to the unsearched areas of the room.

The doors banged open, and three Imperial soldiers stood behind them. Clearly, they were not expecting a Viera - they had to take a moment to comprehend the giantess before them. Fran took this split second of shock to use to her advantage, dashing forward and knocking off one of their helmets. This snapped them out of their reverie, and they drew their swords.

Fran strung her bow and shot an arrow into the head of the helmetless Imperial, sending him falling to the ground in a crimson pool. A second Imperial charged towards her, but she stepped out of the way and threw a small dagger into his back, puncturing the armour and piercing the skin. The force of the dagger pushed him forward, sending him toppling down the stairs. The third, unharmed Imperial seized the opportunity to strike Fran down while her back was turned. But the last thing he heard was a muffled bang before collapsing to the ground beside his comrade.

Fran whirled around to see what had happened to her final attacker. Balthier stood, gun smoking, looking much too proud of himself. As he stuck the firearm back in his holster, he smirked.

"You owe me twice now." He looked up at his Viera companion, and she frowned.

"I don't remember owing you once."

Balthier nodded towards the corner of the room. A square of carpet had been removed, and a metal trap door latch glinted in the candlelight. Fran shot him an appreciative smile, and the two of them made their way to the corner. Fran yanked it open, revealing a ladder descending into pitch darkness.

After assessing their means of transport, Balthier glanced up at Fran. "Ladies first."

* * *

The ballroom was glittering. Elegant ladies in beautiful Archadian gowns danced with men in exquisitely tailored coats, perfect down to the last thread. There was a small but noticeable mixture of Dalmascan fashion amongst the sharp, elegant lines of the Archadians. As Penelo watched in awe, she couldn't help but wonder at all the detail put into an outfit that, she assumed, would only be worn once. It was, however, a far-flung dream that she would ever occupy one of the gorgeous gowns.

"Penelo! Stop slacking and get over here!" Migelo's throaty voice bellowed from across the room, forcing Penelo to be reminded of the task at hand.

She, Migelo, and the others had been tasked with setting the long dining table and waiting on the many guests. It was a job Penelo was happy to take at the time, but she didn't consider how difficult it would be to wait and serve on the very people that took her home. While Dalmascan people were present, they were few and far between.

It was funny, really, how the conquered land had to serve those who overtook it.

Penelo crossed the room to see Migelo. "What do you need me to do?"

"See those vases?" The Bangaa gestured to the fine crystal vases filled with the best and brightest Dalmascan flowers sitting on a side table, "Set those up, will ya?"

Penelo nodded and went to the vases. As she picked up the first one, Migelo called again, "You haven't seen Vaan, have you?"

The young girl shook her head. "No, I thought I saw him polishing plates with Kytes."

Migelo grumbled – clearly, he wasn't. Penelo knew better than to worry. In the back of her mind, she knew Vaan would ditch the fete. It just wasn't him, to serve the very empire that killed his brother.

At that point, Penelo paused. The very empire that killed his brother… Reks was her brother too, though not by blood. Yet she was still here, at the fete, decorating the tables of her enemy. A part of her wanted to storm out of the room right that very minute, to find Vaan and spend the night on the bustling streets of Rabanastre. Not serving the hoity-toity Archadians who were slowly but surely destroying her home. But there she was, arranging flowers for Lord Vayne.

That part of her, the one that wanted to flee, never saw the light. Instead she stayed, bowing and scraping to the Archadians.

* * *

Time passed, and the serving staff grew more hectic as the dancing in the other room drew to a close. Migelo looked like he was about to blow a blood vessel, and Penelo could see that he needed some support.

"Everything looks amazing, Migelo," she reassured him, looking over their handiwork.

It really did look spectacular, now that they were done. The flowers Penelo had set out were surrounded with shiny, beautifully painted china plates. The table cloth was made of Dalmascan silk, and it was glowing underneath the warm light of the candles placed sporadically along it.

Migelo made a low grumble in agreement, but he still wasn't happy. "If Vaan would like to make a miraculous appearance, now would be a good time."

"You still haven't seen him?" Penelo asked, furrowing her brow.

"No, and we need one more person to wait the tables."

"I could," Penelo offered, but Migelo shook his head.

"No, no, they wouldn't like a woman to serve… You go wait in the kitchen, they'll be in soon."

Penelo nodded and stepped out, jogging downstairs into the basement. Though she knew Vaan was likely to never return, the first seedlings of worry started to sprout. As she sat down on one of the hard, stone seats along the walls, her mind drifted back to the last conversation she had with him.

* * *

" _The place has changed so much. It's like it's not even Rabanastre anymore. Like the Empire is swallowing it whole," Penelo mused sadly as she and Vaan walked down the street. They had just departed the crowds following Lord Vayne's speech._

" _Hey Penelo," Vaan started, "We're serving at the fete tonight, right? How much of the palace do you think they'll let us into?"_

 _Penelo sighed. "Migelo said we can go in the kitchen and dining room, and that's only for setting up, remember? What, were you planning something?"_

 _Vaan dodged the question. "So… Do you think Migelo would notice if we slipped off somewhere?"_

 _Penelo scoffed. "No, I don't think he would." She stepped in front of Vaan and put her hands on her hips. "Would you please tell me why you're asking all of this?"_

 _Vaan twisted his mouth into a frown – he clearly wasn't in the mood for sharing._

" _I'm not moving until you tell me!" When Vaan tried to step past her, she grabbed onto his arm, smiling. She knew she'd won when Vaan relented._

" _I'm going to take back what's ours! Give back to Dalmasca. C'mon, what do you think? If I find something, and it fetches a good price, how 'bout I, uh... I buy you all dinner!" he told her, growing more excited as he spoke._

" _Oh please. You know as well as I do the first thing you'd buy is an airship! All hail Vaan, sky pirate of Dalmasca! It's got a nice ring to it!"_

 _Penelo chortled and stepped out of Vaans way, and the two carried on their way back to Migelo's. They kept the conversation going with playful banter, and Penelo was having too good a time to notice that Vaan's mind was on something else. As the pair arrived outside their guardian's store, Penelo stopped outside the sign._

" _Hey, Vaan? It's been a long time since we did anything together. Too long. I had a really good time," she said with a smile._

" _Even with Vayne's blabbering?" A sceptical Vaan raised his eyebrow._

" _Yes, even with that." Penelo hesitated, her lowering her eyes to the ground. "Try to stay out of trouble. For me? I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here. If something happened to you…"_

 _Vaan reached out and took her hand. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"_

" _That's what I wanted to hear," she said, now smiling. "See you later!"_

 _She disappeared into the store._

* * *

Penelo pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. After thinking back on Vaan's interest in the palace, she could tell that he really was going to "take back what was theirs." She should've known he would go and do something stupid…

She just hoped that wasn't the last time she'd see him.


	4. Chapter 3: Attempted Crimes

**THE ROYAL, THE RUNAWAY, AND THE STREET RAT – CHAPTER 3**

Fran coughed as she inhaled even more dust.

The passage they'd found beneath the carpet clearly hadn't been used in a while. Cobwebs hung on the walls like tapestries, and the air was thick with dust. It didn't help that she'd gone down first – Fran had to endure the filth while Balthier descended down through the reasonable cleanliness she'd left in her wake.

"How far down are we?" he called down to her.

"It's too dark to tell."

Balthier groaned. The two carried on in silence until Fran started at the feeling of cold stone beneath her feet rather than the wooden ladder.

"There's your answer." Fran stepped off of the ladder and felt around in the darkness for a door. She pushed at a stone, and when she felt it loosening she continued, and soon the stone thumped to the ground on the other side. A single shaft of light poured into the small room. Granted, it the light was dim, but it was light all the same.

Fran kept pushing at stones until she had enough room to clamber through the hole. Once out, she extended her hand to Balthier. He took it, and pulled himself out into the open. The pirates took their time to loosen their muscles and brush off their clothes – being stuck in a cramped space for so long hadn't done them any good.

Balthier was about to speak when Fran's ears twitched. She'd heard something.

"Quiet," she ordered, and Balthier obliged.

Through one of the walls, Fran could hear metal knocking against metal, and wooden chests creaking open. Then a metallic clunk, and after that, a barely audible gasp. Someone was in there.

"We have company," she said, and Balthier raised his eyebrows.

"Do we now? We'll have to introduce ourselves."

Fran pointed Balthier in the direction of what she'd heard. The wall would've gleamed gold if the room wasn't so dankly lit. Balthier pressed his hand against it, and it slid down, revealing a treasury worthy of its name.

Gold, jewels, and magicite glittered in the candlelight. Golden statuettes sat upon stone pedestals, and chests full of priceless gems lined the walls. But among them stood a thief holding the very thing they'd came for – the Goddess Magicite.

"Quite a performance." Balthier's announcement of their arrival gave the young man a start. He whirled around to face them, looking like a frightened Giza bunny.

"Who are you?" He asked, his blonde hair made brighter by the candlelight.

"I play the leading man, who else?" Balthier replied with a smirk, and Fran stepped out from behind him. Now that gave the boy a real shock.

She walked over to him, staring him down, intimidating him.

"Fran, the magicite." Fran heeded Balthier's order and reached out to grab the magicite from the thief's hand.

"Now then, I'll take that."

"No, you won't." The boy recoiled before she could get her hands on it. "I found it. It's mine."

Balthier stepped further into the treasury. Fran abandoned the boy to stand with her partner. Balthier looked up to her with exasperation, and Fran couldn't blame him. The stranger was being awfully childish.

He folded his arms. "And then when I take it from you, it'll be mine."

The boy looked ready to retaliate, but he was interrupted by the sound of yelling guards and clanking armour. Fran and Balthier were equally used to that sound from their sky pirating days, but the boy looked like he was about to soil himself. Clearly, he hadn't thought his plan through, whatever that plan may be.

Balthier sighed, not happy that their supposedly fool proof plan hadn't worked out in the slightest. He gave a sideways glance at the door they came from, then looked back up at Fran. "Exit stage right."

As the thief broke into a run and disappeared through the door, Fran remarked: "The gods do not smile on us."

"I like it better that way." Balthier smirked, and the pirates followed the lead of their new acquaintance.

* * *

Penelo was taking dirty plates to the kitchen when it happened. She had barely got down the steps when the sounds of sharp screaming pierced the air. She dropped the plates in fright, their smashing only adding to the cacophony. The young girl raced up the stairs to see what had happened, only to see that the once glamorous dining hall had been turned into a place of chaos.

The nobles were being evacuated by imperial guards, and the consul was nowhere to be seen. The evacuation was far from orderly – the haste of the panicked people had left the whole room a mess. Chairs had been haphazardly pushed out by the nobles, and some of the crazier ones must have climbed over the table, as the once beautiful layout had been turned to a wreck.

Scared, Penelo turned back to the kitchens and shrieked when she found someone right behind her. It was only Migelo.

"You scared me to death!" Penelo cried, placing a hand on her chest.

"My apologies, but you need to get out of here," the Bangaa told her, pushing her along.

"What's going on? What's happened?"

Migelo leaned in and told her: "The Resistance tried to kill the consul."

In any other situation, Penelo would be less than surprised. But at that moment she was caught in the middle of it, and her panic sky rocketed.

"Oh my lord…"

With Migelo's encouragement, Penelo fled back down the stairs to the servant's entrance, which was just about as chaotic as the dining room. The servants were clustered around the door, pushing and shoving, clamouring for escape. Not wanting to be caught up in the crowd, Penelo started searching for another way out.

As she ran further and further into the dingy, servant's quarters, she wondered if she'd made a mistake in abandoning the others. Now she was alone, or at least, she thought she was. One of the Resistance members could be right around the corner, happy to take a hostage…

Rounding a corner, Penelo's heart skipped a beat when she saw a window opening out onto the palace's side. She ran forward and started to push it open. The window swung open with ease, and Penelo clambered out into the outside world.

The outside of the palace was worse than the inside. The Resistance and the Imperial guards were battling in the courtyard. The screaming of those fallen hung heavy in the air, and dead bodies lay amongst the fighting ones.

There was no sign of the evacuated nobles, or the crowd of servants. Penelo stood by the side of the castle, and scanned the area for means of escape. When no clear course of action showed itself, Penelo whimpered.

 _I should've stuck with the others._

Suddenly, someone was charging towards her. It was a woman - not a guard, but a resistance member. She wore the armour of a Dalmascan general, and carried the weapons to match. Her features were hard to pick out in the night. She dashed to Penelo's side and instructed her the way only a general would.

"There's ivy in the back garden. Use it to climb over the walls, and you'll be safe." With that, the woman charged back into battle, leaving Penelo dumbfounded.

Who was she? Why did she help her? Was her advice genuine? How did she know? Despite these questions racing in her mind, Penelo felt that she had no other option but to follow the woman's advice. She turned and fled to the back of the palace, and sure enough, the back walls were covered in ivy.

The fighting had spread to the back, but it wasn't as intense as the front. Penelo made a mad dash for the ivy, sticking close to the shadows of the palace walls. She grabbed onto the thickest vine she could find and hoisted herself up, climbing as fast as she could to reach the top. When she arrived, she slid over the side, not even thinking about how far down the drop was. As she landed, she slipped and twisted her ankle, crying out in pain.

But no matter how painful the fall was, the important thing was that she was safe. Using the stone walls to support her, she lifted herself up and limped back to the main city, the sounds of war echoing in the darkness.

* * *

"Stop running!" Balthier yelled.

Fran and him had followed the magicite thief back up to the bridge they'd arrived on. They had a full view of the fighting going on in the front garden as well as the airships that clustered in the sky. The boy had stopped, but only to stare dumbfounded at the battle.

"What's going on?" he asked, but it was almost inaudible for the huge explosion that had just shook the palace. Fran and Balthier instantly dropped to their knees, and they held firm. But the boy was sent reeling by the blast, and only just managed to steady himself before he landed on the stone.

"Fran, the bike," Balthier said under his breath, and Fran nodded, standing up and dashing past, unnoticed.

Balthier rose and looked to the sky. "The _Ifrit_ , eh? That's quite an entrance. Impeccable timing. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were waiting all along."

The boy stared at him for a moment, but soon continued his escape. He skidded to a halt when he saw his route had been obstructed. Fran, who was astonished at finding the hover bike where they'd left it, had driven it right into his path, blocking any hopes he had of escape.

"End of the line!" Balthier yelled over the din of the battle. "You have something that belongs to me."

The boy looked shocked – he was in over his head. But soon Balthier shared this feeling as a spotlight shined straight on them. He looked to the Viera, "Fran, let's move!"

Fran nodded and started up the bike. It lifted into the air smoothly, and she spun it around. Guiding it down to the bridges edge, she was just in time for Balthier to grab the boy and throw him on to it. He was swiftly followed by Balthier himself, who managed to land on the bike while the boy fell past them. Balthier grabbed onto his hand, and soon they were soaring back into the sky – but something wasn't right.

"Let go of me!" the thief yelled, still clinging to his magicite.

"Keep this up and I will," Balthier growled at him.

The bike started to slow down, swerving in all the wrong directions. No matter what Fran tried, it wouldn't obey her. Balthier shot her an angered look. "What's going on, Fran?"

She shook her head, still struggling with the controls. "I don't know. It's not heeding me!"

"I don't have time for this…"

"I'm slipping!" the boy yelled, and his complaint seemed to do nothing for Balthier's already tetchy mood.

Fran had lost full control of the bike when it suddenly turned off. They hung, suspended in the air for a split second, and then the bike went crashing down to the ground. It collided with the damage caused by the earlier explosion, breaking through the weakened ground and into the murky depths of the Garamsythe Waterway.


	5. Chapter 4: Missing

**THE ROYAL, THE RUNAWAY, AND THE STREET RAT – CHAPTER 4: MISSING**

The cold was the first thing she felt. Seeping into her arms and legs, turning her body to ice. Then there was the pain. Dull, yet hard to ignore. She looked down to see a gash in her left thigh, deep red blood seeping out of the wound. The smell hit her next – rancid, toxic. It made her shudder.

Grimacing, Fran looked around for something she could bandage her wound with. Spotting her knapsack dangling over a jagged stone, she reached forward to grab it. But the action only made her slip down, and she winced as her back scraped against a piece of metal. She tried again, but with the same success as the first time.

Swearing in Vieran, Fran tried a different approach. Grabbing onto a nearby stone for support, she lifted herself up as best she could. The moment she got on two feet, pain shot through her left leg. Now she knew to put all her weight on the right. Doing so, she hobbled over to her knapsack and grabbed it, and then settled herself down, resting by a nearby wall.

"Do you want some help with that?"

Fran looked up, startled. But it was only the thief. He looked busted up, but not too badly. It didn't look as though he'd sustained a wound like Fran, aside from a few cuts and scrapes.

Against all trace of pride, she held out the bag to him. "Yes, thank you."

The thief took the bag and rummaged around its contents. Drawing out some bandages – Fran always made sure to have some on hand – he started binding her thigh.

"Are you alright?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he added with a chuckle, "Better than you, anyway."

"Be careful what you say, thief."

The boy looked up at her, and for a moment he looked scared. Then he relaxed and carried on with the bandage. "It's Vaan, by the way."

"Of course."

Vaan tied the white strips together, securing it. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, and he looked proud of himself. He stuffed the left-over bandages back in the bag. He then crossed to her and sat down, leaning against the cold stone wall. She had to admit, he hadn't done a bad job.

"Have you experience with bandages?" she asked.

Vaan shook his head. "No, but I've seen Penelo do it enough times."

"Penelo?"

"Oh, she's my friend." His face softened at the mention of the girl's name. Fran had seen that look enough times to know that she was more than just a friend. Well, at least, to him she wasn't. She remembered a time when she first started pirating with Balthier. He fell for a girl at the Phon Cost Hunters camp, and he'd had the exact same expression.

Balthier…

She looked to Vaan with wide eyes. "Where is Balthier?"

Vaan's brow furrowed, and then he copied Fran's expression. Jumping up and dashing towards the wreckage of the hoverbike, he dug around in the debris. Fran craned her neck to see – she wished she could look herself.

"Can you see him?" she called out. "Is he alright?"

Without answering, Vaan reached a hand into the wreckage and started to pull. He succeeded in pulling one of Balthier's limp hands free. Then, using two of his own, he managed to drag Balthier out of the wreckage completely. Fran breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness.

Balthier started to stir shortly afterwards, his brown eyes fluttering open. He groaned, raising his hand to his head. It came away bloody, and Vaan went back on bandage duty. After patching up the sky pirate, he brought him over to sit with Fran.

Balthier sent the Viera a scolding look. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she shook her head, then looked to what remained of their bike. "Our hover didn't just drop, it disappeared."

"Forget it," Balthier grumbled. The distant sound of an explosion shook the walls, and a few tiny stones dropped from the ceiling. "The Ifrit's playing with fire, and I'd rather not get burned. We'll go the old-fashioned way."

Balthier nodded down to the path down the stairs below them. While they were on dry land, a shallow expanse of water hid what lay ahead. Upon further inspection, the water looked less than clean. It dawned on them that they'd found themselves in a middle of a sewer.

Vaan's eyes lit up, and he rose to stand. "Hey, I know this place! I train down here pretty much every day."

"Care to be our tour guide then, thief?" Balthier offered with a raised eyebrow.

"It's Vaan. And I, uh… haven't been down this far." He scratched the back of his head.

Balthier rolled his eyes. Fran sighed, and looked to their new companion. "We'll find our way. A sewer is a common destination for sky pirates."

Vaan's jaw dropped. "Pirates?" his voice grew louder with excitement. "You guys are sky pirates? So you have an airship?"

"It's Balthier." The pirate gave him the evil eye. "Listen thief – Vaan. If you ever want to see your home again, you'll do exactly as I say."

Vaan gave a disgruntled sigh and looked to the journey ahead. But something caught his eye, and soon he was dashing to the other side of the pathway. Fran and Balthier exchanged confused glances. It started to make sense when Vaan returned with the Goddess Magicite in hand. When he noticed Balthier eying it up, hid it behind his back with haste.

"Don't even think you're getting this."

Balthier raised his hands in surrender. "The thought never crossed my mind…"

* * *

The streets of Rabanstre were alive with noise. It wasn't the usual chatter one would expect of the heavily populated city. This time it was crying, the sound of small blasts ricocheting off of buildings. People calling names in the dark. Penelo remembered pushing through similar crowds in the infirmary where Reks lay waiting.

Shaking her head of the memory, she continued her struggle through the streets. It didn't help that her ankle was throbbing. It had grown worse since she'd started running on it, but limping was too slow. She needed to get home fast.

Rounding a corner to the East End, she found that it was no more crowded than the main streets. Only this time, one of the names called was hers. It was hard to make out – she could only hear Kyte's voice because she knew it so well.

"Kytes!" she yelled in reply, standing on tip toes to try and find him. She couldn't.

In a futile hope that he would hear her, Penelo yelled again: "I'm going to Migelo's! Meet me there!"

With that, she continued fighting the crowds. They thinned out the closer she drew to the shops, and soon she was moving with ease. She turned around and scanned the crowd, hoping she could see Kytes better now. When she saw his small figure dashing towards her, she was glad to see a familiar face.

She embraced him into a hug as he collided into her, and she could feel him sobbing. Kneeling down to his level, she wiped his cheeks. "Hey, hey, Kytes! It's alright," she said with a smile.

"But I can't find Migelo, or Filo, or… or…" The young boy burst into tears.

Penelo drew him in closer. "It's ok, Kytes. Migelo's sensible, he'll know how to get out. Filo's probably with him."

"Really?" Kytes sniffled.

"Yes, really. Come on, let's go to Migelo's. I've got the keys." Penelo reached for her belt and unhitched the keyring that hung at her hip. The key to Migelo's shop was the largest on the ring, and it swayed in the light breeze.

As she lead Kytes to the entrance, he asked: "Have you seen Vaan anywhere? Is he ok?"

Penelo shook her head.

"No, I don't know about Vaan."

In her terror, she'd completely forgotten about Vaan. She'd only worried about getting to Migelo's intact. Now that Kytes brought him up she realised she hadn't seen him for hours.

She Vaan lying dead in the palace or held prisoner by the imperials... She blinked back tears as she opened the door and let Kytes pass through. She followed him through and shut the door behind her, and the silence of the empty shop was overwhelming.

"You don't think something's happened to him, do you?" Kytes asked, eyes wide and full of concern.

Penelo forced a smile. "You know Vaan, he'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

She wasn't sure if she was reassuring Kytes or herself.

* * *

The trek through the Waterway had been slow, but they'd made it a good distance from the crash site. Fran knew that she was the one holding them up, but they couldn't hold that against her. She had an injury, after all.

"Recognise anything yet, thief?" Balthier asked. Fran could tell he was growing impatient – the filth of the sewers didn't suit him well.

"Kind of… Hang on…" Vaan jogged further ahead to take in their surroundings. He rounded a corner, but soon he retreated.

"What is it?" Fran asked, instinctively reaching for her bow.

"Imperials."

"Oh great…" Balthier groaned. Vaan peeked around the corner again.

"Someone's fighting them."

The trio soon joined Vaan to see the fight for themselves. Vaan was right, the imperial armour was unmistakable. The person they were fighting was offering up quite a challenge. She was adept in swordplay, as she was fighting off the metal men with little difficulty. As she cut one down, she turned to the others with a fierce expression. "Who would be next?"

"She's tough," Fran remarked.

"Maybe, but her first mistake was fighting where she can fall."

Balthier was right. The woman had backed herself against a ledge, and the drop was far. If she fell, the Imperials would win. Fran felt as though they should help the mystery woman, but Vaan had beaten her to it. He dashed out to the open space below the ledge, the sewer water reaching his knees.

"Jump down!"

The woman started and turned to look down at him. She gasped when she saw the sheer drop below her – she can't have realised what she'd got herself into. She looked to Vaan, and the young boy nodded. Without hesitation, she leapt down, her sleeves fluttering. She landed in Vaan's arms, and gave him a grateful nod. But before she'd had a chance to leave his grasp, Vaan took off into the waterway, leaving Fran and Balthier in the dust.

"I suppose we should follow suit," Balthier said, then looked at Fran with a devilish glint in his eye.

"Don't you dare."

Balthier did dare, and soon he was dashing past the dumbfounded Imperials with the Viera in his arms. Fran decided to join in on the fun and saluted to the soldiers before they disappeared into the sewers.

After some time, they caught up with Vaan and the mystery woman. She'd been set down, but she was glowering at Vaan like a teacher at a misbehaving student.

Vaan looked as embarrassed as he should be. "You alright?"

"Yes, thank you." Her tone didn't match her words.

"I'm Vaan, and this is Balthier and Fran. What's your name?"

The woman looked them over. She must not have been expecting such haphazard company. "Amalia."

Fran wasn't sure if she had been expecting Amalia's company either. She wore the garb of a Dalmascan general, and pale almond hair framed a hard, war weary face. On most occasions, a solider was the last person she'd want to spend time with. But it seemed that this wasn't most occasions.

"Amalia, huh?" Vaan smiled. "Nice to meet you!"

Amalia looked down, long eyelashes brushing her face. "There were others with me…"

"I'm sorry," said Fran, and she truly was.

All attention turned away from the general when Vaan's pocket began to glow. He reached into it and pulled out the Goddess Magicte, but he flinched and dropped it into the water. The liquid sizzled around it, and steam rose from the ground. Amalia's eyes grew wide.

"Oh, now isn't that impressive," Balthier remarked.

Vaan glared at him. "Don't get any ideas. I said it's mine."

"I'm afraid the jury's still out on that one…"

Amalia looked to her rescuer with shock. "You stole that?"

"Yeah!" Vaan was too proud of himself.

The stone dimmed, and the water calmed down around it. Vaan stooped and reached for it, hesitating to pick it up. When his fingers closed around it he winced at the heat, but it was soon returned to his pocket.

"Are you quite finished?" Fran asked, leaning against the wall. Balthier had long since set her down. "They'll come looking for us."

"If they haven't already," Balthier muttered.

Vaan turned to Amalia with an earnest smile. "You should come with us. Better than being by yourself."

Amalia took a moment to weigh her options. But she nodded. "Very well."

She turned and strode away, leaving her new company behind. Vaan scoffed, "What's wrong with her?"

Balthier clapped his hand on Vaan's shoulder and lead him along. "You have a lot to learn before we even get started on your thievery…"


	6. Chapter 5: Prisoners of the Empire

**THE ROYAL, THE RUNAWAY, AND THE STREET RAT – CHAPTER 5: PRISONERS OF THE EMPIRE**

The sun shone through the small window into Penelo's bedroom, and birds chirped to signal the sound of a new day. A groggy Penelo slipped out of bed, wincing as she put weight on her injured ankle. She'd forgotten about that. Sighing, she went about her morning routine – plaiting her hair, pulling on her clothes.

As she finished off her left braid, her mind drifted to the events of the night before. She couldn't believe she'd been so close to the attempted assassination of the consul. In a way, she wished she hadn't been. All the night before had given her was a fear she'd never known. For most of that night, she'd been alone. Even before the chaos began, everyone was too busy to talk - including her. She'd wondered what would happen if she had died that night, without saying her goodbyes to anyone. She couldn't imagine how Vaan would feel…

Vaan. She still hadn't seen him. She had a faint hope that he'd slipped in during the night. But if he had, then wouldn't he wake her? She wouldn't know what to do if he…

Penelo shook her head. There was no point in thinking like that.

She completed her routine and went hobbling down the stairs to the store. Migelo's "orphanage" connected to the shop, allowing business to start as soon as possible. This garnered mixed reviews.

Penelo opened the door a crack to see if anyone else was up. She wasn't surprised to see Migelo up and rearranging the shelves. She smiled. He was never satisfied with how his store looked.

"Good morning," she said, stepping into the store.

"Eh, what? Oh, good morning Penelo." The Bangaa went about his business.

"Need some help?" she inquired.

Migelo waved his hand in dismissal. "No, no, no. You rest that ankle of yours today."

Penelo nodded, then hopped up to sit on the counter. The two stayed silent for a while. Migelo occupied himself with the potions display and took little notice of her. After some time, Penelo ventured a question.

"Any sign of Vaan yet?"

Migelo paused, hand hovering over the display. With a sigh, he shook his head. "No. I'm sorry."

"Oh."

Vaan had been missing before, but never this long. He would've turned up by now if this was any other time. But this wasn't any other time. She should've known he would do something like this, what with him blabbering on out taking back what was theirs. No doubt he'd the Imperials had caught him - or worse.

"I hope he's alright." Penelo swung her legs, watching as they bounced off the counter.

Migelo looked to her, and he mustered a smile. "He'll be fine, don't you worry."

Penelo returned the gesture, but there wasn't any feeling to it. She wished he would be fine like Migelo said. But the odds of that happening were zero to nothing.

But if he was, he'd have a lot to answer for.

* * *

"So, have you guys ever been to prison? How did you escape?"

Balthier rolled his eyes as Vaan asked even more questions. Fran had found it charming – the boy was so excited to meet real life sky pirates. Balthier had never been one for boundless enthusiasm.

"Yes, we have been to prison, and we escaped by slipping the guards." His tone was dull.

"Cool." Vaan was awe struck.

Fran chuckled. She liked Vaan. He was a nice change from the constant cynicism she'd got from Balthier. She remembered when all those children were staring at her after the consul's speech. She hadn't liked them gawking at her then, but they saw her as Fran the Viera. Vaan found fascination in Fran the sky pirate.

Looking up from her musings, Fran took notice of the general, Amalia. She'd been quiet the whole trip, always keeping one step ahead of them. She couldn't tell if Amalia was being cautious or just didn't like them.

"What about-"

"Why don't you let me ask you a question for a change?" asked an irked Balthier, putting Vaan in his place.

"Ok then, shoot."

"Do you know where we are yet?"

Vaan paused, taking in their surroundings. He looked to Balthier with a grin. "Yeah, we're nearly at Lowtown."

"Thank goodness…" the sky pirate groaned, then picked up the pace.

The dirt ridden water grew shallower and shallower the closer they got to the exit. Vaan grew more and more confident as they went on, overtaking Amalia and acting like a tour guide. Fran wished she could have that kind of enthusiasm.

"How's your leg?" Balthier asked, falling in to step with his partner.

Fran shrugged. "Better. You know how we are. Viera heal in no time."

"Fantastic. You know you're no good to me with a bung leg."

That meant "I'm glad you're ok" in Balthier's terms. She smiled and knocked him on the shoulder. Balthier smiled at her. It wasn't big, it was more of a kind-hearted smirk than a smile, but the meaning was there all the same.

Amalia interrupted their moment when she hissed at them to get against the wall. Confused, Vaan questioned, "What?"

"Imperials." Her hand hovered above her sword.

"Do you think they're after us?" Vaan looked to all three of his companions for an answer.

"Perhaps they found our bike?" Fran suggested, but Balthier shook his head.

"I think they're after something more valuable." His eyes drifted to Vaan's pocket, bulging with the weight of the Goddess Magicite.

Vaan smiled sheepishly, and Balthier rolled his eyes. Fran glanced over the area to see if she could find a place to hide while the Imperials searched the sewers. Her eyes fell on a small alcove on the other side of the sewer. They'd have to swim through the murk, but it would be worth it to escape capture. But the sting of cold metal resting on her back hit her before she could say anything.

"Stand where you are!" The Imperial barked, and the whole group jumped.

Amalia yanked her sword out of its sheath and raised it in defense. But Balthier grabbed her sword arm and pulled it down. "Now is not the time."

They were shortly apprehended. Dragged through the sewers, the familiarity of the situation saddened Fran. Only criminals got imprisoned as often as she had, and her record extended far before she'd met Balthier.

The Imperials dropped them when they met with the other soldiers. Fran shivered as she fell to her knees in the freezing sewer. Looking up, she couldn't believe who was standing above her. That honourable man who had recently spoken to them as their new consul – Vayne Solidor.

* * *

Penelo found herself with the day off thanks to her ankle, so she decided to set her attentions to finding Vaan. She knew her friend so well that it wasn't difficult to put herself in his shoes. If she was Vaan, where would she hide?

If he was in Rabanastre, then presumably he would be hiding from the Imperials. The Archadian soldiers dotted the city, true. But they would never go near the slums, which meant there was only one place Vaan would go – Lowtown.

She'd asked around, going to everyone she could think of. Tomaj, Kytes, even Old Dalan. But they knew Vaan's whereabouts as well as she did. She found herself back at square one, resting in the North Sprawl.

"Where would you be…" she mused to herself. She wished her ankle didn't hurt as much as it did. It may have got her the day off, but it made things one heck of a lot slower.

Lost in her own thoughts, she jumped when a voice started yelling her name.

"Penelo! Penelo!" It was Filo. The child careened through the streets, pushing past bystanders without a care. Penelo knew Filo's haphazard nature well – she was always a little unhinged. But it was the stress in her voice and the urgency in her expression that let Penelo know something was up.

"What is it?" She asked, standing to address the younger girl.

Catching her breath, Filo panted: "He's there… Vaan's there… With Imperials…"

Penelo's heart beat faster. That idiot! Why did he have to go and get himself arrested!

"Where did you see them, Filo?" Penelo asked, trying her best to level her tone.

Filo pointed behind her. "Storehouse 5. I think he's in trouble!"

Without so much as thanking Filo, Penelo broke into a sprint to Storehouse 5. All thoughts of the pain in her ankle vanished. All she cared about was finding Vaan, making sure he wasn't hurt, that he was ok.

Arriving at the Storehouse, Penelo found that she wasn't the only spectator of Vaan's arrest.

"They're the thieves that stole into the palace!"

Penelo clenched her fists. Why did Vaan think it was ok to steal from the palace? She always knew he would, but a small part of her hoped that he would see sense. Now he'd paid the price.

Determined to see her friend, Penelo shoved her way through the crowd. The people parted, but those at the front were hesitant to give up their seats. At least she could hear and see what was happening. Spotting Vaan, she bit back a cry.

There were others with him. A well-dressed man, a Viera, and… Penelo's eyes went wide.

"That woman…" she murmured, recognising Vaan's third companion. She was the general who helped her escape the palace!

"These people have done nothing, release them!" The woman declared. Saving people must be a hobby of hers.

Penelo's eyes drifted to who the woman was addressing. Her eyes went wide when she saw the stately figure of the consul. What business did he have with Vaan? Whatever it was, any feelings of adoration she had for him shattered. With newfound determination, Penelo shoved pass the people in front of her.

"Wait!"

All eyes went to her, but she didn't care. She ran towards Vaan, but before she could reach him Imperials grabbed her, holding her back. She struggled against them.

"He didn't know what he was doing!" She cried, "You have to let him go, you have to!"

Penelo met eyes with Vaan. He looked… ashamed. He gave her a half-hearted smile and raised a cuffed hand to acknowledge her.

"Sorry. That dinner'll have to wait."

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally did. "I told you!" Her voice cracked.

"That's enough!" One of the Imperials holding Vaan punched him in the back of the head – hard. Falling forward, Vaan fell to his knees with a grunt. Her sorrow mixing with rage, Penelo broke free of her captors.

"Leave him alone!" She broke into a run. Nothing would stop her from getting to him – aside from the well-dressed man she'd noticed before. He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop.

Holding out a fine, white silk handkerchief, he said, "Hold onto this for me, would you? Just until I bring Vaan back."

He dropped the cloth into her hands, leaving her dumbfounded. She could only watch as the Imperials dragged Vaan away. This could be the last time she ever saw him. He could die in some dungeon, rotting away for the rest of his days, all because of some stupid, idiotic…

Penelo collapsed to her knees, her body shaking as she sobbed. She never noticed the dodgy Bangaa watching her every move...


	7. Chapter 6: Capture and Escape

**THE ROYAL, THE RUNAWAY, AND THE STREET RAT – CHAPTER 6: CAPTURE AND ESCAPE**

The Nalbina Dungeons were a desolate place. Rake thin prisoners shambled through the halls. Dust puffed up at every step. Screams rang out every single day. The Dungeons used to be part of a fortress, though the end of the war rendered it useless. Instead of making something worthwhile out of it, they made it a prison. No, it was too inhumane to be a prison.

For Fran, though she hated to admit it, this was her second visit. People went to Nalbina for all sorts of things, from mass murder to petty thievery. Fran had been the latter, and it had scared the living daylights out of her. Now she had experience – she'd been out of the woods for a long time.

She looked down at Vaan, who was unconscious on the floor. Remembering how scared her first time in prison made her feel sorry for the boy. Stuck with two complete strangers in a dank pit of misery, it wasn't Fran's idea of fun.

"I say we look for a way out of this place." Balthier was leaning against the wall of their cell, staring up at window above them.

"You don't say," said Fran, chin resting on her knees.

Balthier snickered. "Don't get snippy with me, young lady."

Fran glanced at him, a smile playing on her lips. Of all the partners she could've had, she was glad she'd wound up with him. Both of them were outsiders, cast away from their homes. In her opinion, they made a good pair. Not to mention they weren't so bad at thievery, which was a plus. It was even better when they got away with it.

"You or me?" Fran asked, referring who would go searching for an escape route.

"Well…" Balthier looked at her with mischief in his eyes, "I did go last time."

Fran rolled her eyes and got to her feet. "Right."

Balthier waved his hand. "Go on. Find us a secret passage."

The Viera gazed affectionately at her partner then went in search of escape.

The Dungeons got worse as she got further in. With every corner she turned another brawl had started. The prisoners were battling each other for trivial means. She hated to think what could drive someone to fight like that. If it wasn't a brawl she found, it was some poor, dejected soul wasting away in a corner. She wondered how they ended up like that – what had happened to them?

It appalled her when she came across a fighting pit. No wonder she saw so much fighting before hand – the pit encouraged it. The pit hadn't been there on her first trip, it had looked the same as any other part of the prison. She couldn't believe that they'd made Nalbina worse, but they'd managed it.

As she walked past the dreaded pit, her chest started to feel tight. Raising her hand to it, she knew that there was only one thing that made her feel like that. Mist.

A sign of the strange, mist was only found in the most remote areas of Ivalice. Its presence changed the very landscape - Animals turned to beasts, the undead returned... Viera were sensitive to it and could tell mist was near when others could not. Though Fran feared to tread where the mist lay, she felt it the only way of escape. The mist had to flow into the prison from somewhere.

She followed where the mist took her.

* * *

Penelo wandered the streets of Rabanastre, not sure what to do with herself. Vaan's arrest had been hours ago, but she still hadn't told anyone what she'd seen. The only other person who knew about it was Filo, and she may have told the others. She hated to think of Migelo's reaction. Despite the trouble, he gave the bangaa, Migelo had always been fond of Vaan.

"You selfish idiot…" Penelo said under her breath.

How could he do this to her? To everyone? He went and got himself arrested for the good of Dalmasca. Penelo didn't know what good getting arrested could do. All he'd managed to do was frighten his friends and get himself thrown in the Nalbina Dungeons.

What if she never saw him again?

Penelo sobbed but bit it back when people stared at her. Tears fell down her cheeks, but she wiped them away. It didn't do anyone any good to be weak, especially now. With Vaan gone, the kids needed someone to look up to, and it seemed that someone was going to be her.

Standing up straight, Penelo breathed deeply, taking time to calm down. Raising the piece of cloth to wipe her tears away, she paused when it came into view. She'd forgotten that it wasn't hers – it belonged to that man who was with Vaan. Turning the silk over in her hands, she realised it held more meaning than she realised.

" _Hold onto this for me, would you? Just until I bring Vaan back."_

Whoever he was, he was going to get Vaan back. He needed to come back for his handkerchief, and she wouldn't give it back if he didn't have Vaan with him. She closed her hands around the cloth, a feeling of hope bubbling away inside her.

"Is that from a gentleman friend?"

Penelo turned to see a pale blue bangaa leaning against the wall. She looked at the young girl with interest, but Penelo wasn't sure if it was the good kind of interest.

"No. It's from a, uh... Actually, I don't know who's it is." She laughed out of nervousness. "I just found it on the floor-"

The bangaa chuckled. "You see, I think you're lying to me."

"What?"

She stood up, abandoning her position against the wall. She advanced on Penelo. "I saw a certain sky pirate handing it to you not so long ago."

Penelo's heart beat faster. How did she know? Who was she? What did she want?

"Well, I don't know what you're talking about, so I'm gonna go…"

In a flash, the bangaa had drawn a knife and was holding it dangerously close to Penelo's chest. Penelo's eyes darted around, hoping someone was seeing this, but it seemed they'd gone unnoticed.

"You're not going anywhere."

Penelo bolted. She could hear the bangaa screeching, then her heavy footfalls close behind her. It was unbelievable – she was being chased through the streets by a crazy bangaa. Penelo streaked through the streets until she found somewhere safe. She could go to Migelo's, but she didn't want to put him or anyone else in danger.

Heart pounding, Penelo darted around a corner into the Muthru bazaar. People swarmed in the streets – perfect. She headed straight for the crowds, doing her best to lose herself amongst the people. She checked behind her to see if the bangaa had followed. To her delight, she was hovering on the edge of the rabble.

 _If I stay here long enough she should give up._

For a moment, Penelo thought she was safe. But the moment she felt a cold, scaly hand closed around her wrist, she knew that she was dead wrong. Shaking, she turned her head to see who had caught her. It was another bangaa, sneering down at her past his grey snout.

"Ba'Gamnan has some business with you, little girl."

* * *

The mist had lead Fran deep into the Dungeon, further than she'd dared to go before. A satisfied smile had crossed her face when she found the Oubliette – they had their way out. Using the same discretion as before, Fran crept back up to where she left Balthier and Vaan.

When she found them standing over two seeqs in the fighting pit, she was less than surprised. Balthier spotted her before she had to alert them to her presence, and he hurried Vaan over with him. Sliding the pit door open for them to crawl through, Fran was eager to share what she'd found.

"Through the Oubliette, there's a way out. Only…" Fran hesitated at the thought of the mist, but Balthier caught on.

"Only you sense the mist. Then we'll need weapons-"

"What did you call me? Say that again?" The sound of a disgruntled solider boomed from above. The trio strained to see what was going on, and both Fran and Balthier shared a sigh when they saw who it was.

"What, you couldn't hear? I merely said that the lot of you are incompetent fools. If you've the sky pirate in your hands, where is he?" Ba'Gamnan stood sneering and spitting at the Imperial soldier alongside a companion. The bangaa was their worst enemy in the sky pirating world. He wanted nothing more than to shed Balthier's blood.

"You'd have done better, Ba'Gamnan?" the soldier scoffed. "By your own words, it was the Imperial army who caught this sky pirate of yours. We've done your job for you! We don't require the assistance of filthy headhunters. The Empire will restore order here."

"Eh? What's that you say now? Maybe I'll whet my blade on you... before I kill Balthier." The sky pirate in question rolled his eyes.

Then, a new voice entered the fray. "That's enough, Ba'Gamnan."

The clanking of armour echoed throughout the prison. Fran had to suspend her disbelief when she saw the newcomer was clad in the ornate armour of a judge. What business did the likes of him have in a place like this?

"A judge," Fran muttered.

"Judge?" Vaan looked at her with big, confused eyes.

"The self-proclaimed guardians of law and order in Archadia," Balthier explained. "They're the elite guard of House Solidor. Which effectively makes them the commanders of the Imperial army. If you ask me, they're more executioners than judges. Not a friendly lot, at any rate. What are they doing here?"

"My thoughts exactly," Fran nodded in reply.

The group returned their attention to the conversation above.

"The Emperor is willing to overlook race for his more talented servants. However, those that do not show respect will receive none in kind." The judge's accent wasn't the refined Archadian they were expecting. Instead, he spoke in the hard tones of a Landisian.

"You travel freely through our lands because the Emperor wills it. Am I correct?" The judge continued, and Ba'Gamnan threw up his arms in defeat.

The trio watched as Ba'Gamnan and his friend split up to search the prison. The judge and the soldier continued to speak in hushed whispers.

"Where is the captain?"

"We have him in solitary, Your Honour. We're ready to begin our interrogation," the soldier explained, and the judge nodded. As the two abandoned the scene, Balthier turned to his companions.

"Time for the hare to follow the fox."

Fran started leading Balthier to the oubliette, leaving Vaan chasing after them. Fran felt a little sorry for him – he looked so confused.

"The magicks binding the door to the oubliette are quite strong. Too strong even for my talents," Fran explained as they walked.

"That's why we'll get them to open it for us." He said it as if it was obvious. Well, it was to Fran…

"How is going deeper into this place-"

Interrupting Vaan's protest, Balthier said, "What's wrong? You don't trust her? Viera's noses are sharp. If she says there's a way out, there's a way out."

They carried on in disgruntled silence, slipping past guards and stepping lightly. They soon caught up with the judge and the soldier, who had gained followers since they last saw him. They held still as they entered the oubliette. Before the door shut behind them, they followed. More sneaking ensued, keeping a safe distance away from the judge.

After reaching a door as ornate as his armour, the judge paused. One of the Imperials stepped forward, and Fran watched with interest as he laid a hand on the door. Speaking in a long-forgotten language, his words ignited a blue light in the door. Removing his hand, the light flowed through the details in the door. When the light filled the whole door, it rumbled open into darkness. The judge passed through, disappearing into the shadow.

As the two soldiers accompanying him left, Balthier looked to his companions.

"Shall we?"

Without answering, they slipped through the door and into the darkness.


End file.
